A Dirty Business (Kings of New York #1)(45)

His hands were on me, and he snapped out, “Yes.” He locked the door and barricaded it, but when I braced myself, thinking he was going to kiss me, his hands turned gentle, touching my face. He leaned over me, moving me more under the light so he could see me better. He went eerily still, his touch so soft that it was soothing, and he traced the edge of the bruise, before moving my head gently from side to side.

He was looking for more bruises, and he wasn’t content with just my face. He moved me around, his touch still so gentle as he had me turn around in front of him, lifting my hair so he could inspect my neck. “I’m fine.”

He stopped me in front of him when he was done, but he was focused back on the bruise. “Who?”

I flushed, starting to shake my head. I began to step back, but he stopped me, taking my hips and moving me closer to him. He leaned fully back against the door, opening his legs, and he fit me in between them.

I should leave the room or at least step back.

But dammit. My body was heating, and the swirls were grazing my insides. Those were his swirls, making me go crazy.

“Who touched you?”

I let out an irritated sound. “It was the sister of one of my guys. What are you going to do? Threaten her?”

“Who?” His eyes flashed, and his fingers held firmer to my hips, but his thumbs began rubbing back and forth, tunneling under my shirt. “I can find out.”

I stilled.

Jesus. I knew they had people on their payroll. Knew from the trip up north, but hearing it said in front of me so easily sent chills down my spine.

“Are you protecting my brother?”

He stilled, even more than he had been.

My head reared back, just an inch, and I took him in. His face was guarded but not surprised. That was all I needed to know.

“Why are you protecting my brother?”

He let out a soft sigh, almost so soft that I didn’t hear it. “He’s someone you love. Can’t we leave it at that?”

My heart flipped over, but damn. Damn! Seriously? He said that?

I was mad at him, but I was starting to forget why I was mad at him, and then I remembered—he made me a criminal.

I moved back, firmly.

When he tried holding me in place, I shoved back even more assertively. “Thank you.”

I spotted the vodka I needed.

“For what?”

I grabbed two bottles and moved around him. “For reminding me why you can’t touch me.”

As I reached for the door, he stepped aside. “Jess.”

I opened the door but gave him a searing look, or I hoped because my insides were a jumbled mess. He did that to me. Every time. Right and wrong, good and bad, he was fucking me up.

“You were hurt.”

“I’ve been hurt before.”

His eyebrows dipped low. “What does that mean?”

“Just . . .” I held a hand up and cursed when I heard my voice break. I couldn’t finish what I needed to say.

My heart wasn’t in it because he was here, and he was worried, and . . .

I left, feeling my heart breaking in a way that I never knew it could.

There were people in the hallway. I ignored them, not looking, and went right back to my section, and for the first real time, I started to consider if this was going to be my last night here.

Justin came over twenty minutes later, during a brief break. “You okay? You look stressed.”

“Yeah.” I’d been on autopilot since seeing Trace, and I even tried to give him a smile. I was faking. I knew it wouldn’t match my eyes, and Justin saw through it, giving my shoulder a soft squeeze before going back to his section. “Hang in there, okay?”

I had no other option, but Anthony made a point of coming to tell me before closing that he wasn’t here anymore, and it was then that I realized how I’d been half holding my breath all night long.

And I realized that I was disappointed.





CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE


JESS


I had coffee in hand when I walked into my mother’s house the next morning but smelled freshly brewed coffee and almost dropped the two I was carrying.

“Ma?” Was I in someone else’s house?

“Hey, honey.”

Jesus. I almost dropped my coffee again. My mom was on the couch, curled under a blanket, but she had washed her hair recently. It was shining. She was also dressed for the day in normal clothes, like a sweater, and as she stood to greet me, I saw she was in jeans. Tennis shoes. She took one of the coffees and kissed my cheek. “So sweet of you, Jess. You’re a good daughter.”

My mouth was on the floor when she headed for the kitchen.

“You want any breakfast, honey? Leo made pancakes earlier.”

Footsteps sounded above me. The stairs creaked as Leo was coming down, pulling on a sweater. He looked like he’d just showered, too, and he was dressed in jeans. I looked; he also had sneakers on. “Jess!” He came down, opening his arms for a hug.

I hissed as he enveloped me against his chest. “What sorcery have you done? Whose soul did you sell to the devil?”

He froze just for a second before releasing me, stepping back. “Nothing like that.” But he glanced to the kitchen and drew me to the door. “Outside?”

I knew it.

He went first, and as soon as the door was closed behind me, I pointed inside. “Who is that? That’s not my mother.”